Discarded Chastity: The Chuck & Blair Story
by BringBackSummerRain
Summary: TV SHOW BASED. CB and a little NB. Spoilers: Through to 1x13. Half-AU.
1. Another Failure

**A/N: First of all, I do not own Gossip Girl. Second, this is my first ever fan fiction so no flames please, although constructive criticism is appreciated. Thanks for reading & I hope you enjoy it!**

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Chapter One: Another Failure

For as long as Chuck Bass could remember, he'd known he loved Blair Waldorf. And he'd also known that she could never be his. Chuck's first memory was a testament to this.

He was five years old with a crop of short brown hair, a miniature scarf and eyes that spoke of manipulative intelligence. It was the annual Bass brunch- the room was buzzing with carefully orchestrated conversations and loud, false laughter. Chuck surveyed the room; his amusement illustrated by one raised eyebrow. A statuesque blond was desperately trying to stop her small blond daughter from climbing onto a table whilst the equally blond baby boy on her hip began to wail. She smiled apologetically at the couple seated across the table and the woman nodded a sympathetic reply whilst simultaneously elbowing her partner, who was lost in conversation with the handsome waiter.

At that moment, the hairs on the back of Chuck's neck rose as he instinctively registered that he was being watched. He turned his head to meet the unrelenting gaze of Blair Waldorf's large, doe eyes. Even as a child she appeared haughty, perched elegantly on the plush dining chair. Chuck was both disparaged and intrigued. A vision of dark curls and expensive clothing, she was completely alone. Chuck took a tentative step towards her. By now, the girl was no longer watching him. Free from her withering stare, Chuck quickened his pace and crossed the room to reach Blair's table.

"Chuck Bass," He extended his small hand towards Blair, holding his breath for her response to his impromptu introduction. Blair hopped down from the chair, with as much grace as is possible for a small child to have when hopping. She looked down at Chuck's hand, as though assessing its suitability. For one terrible moment, he thought she would refuse it. But Chuck Bass had underestimated the petite brunette.

"Blair Cornelia Waldorf," She said in return, lightly clasping his hand with her own before quickly releasing it. "This must be your brunch, then."

The smirk that had been spreading across the young boy's features vanished at her words. "It's my dad's, actually. I didn't want to come. These things are always so boring."

Blair's eyes widened in shock. "You are heinous. Our parents only throw these events so we can have fun." Her tone was a mixture of practiced outrage and self-assurance.

"You're having fun?" Chuck's eyebrow shot up as his smirk also returned, his face now the image of childlike malice. "Sitting here all alone. Bet nobody would ever want to have fun with you."

Blair's brown eyes welled up with fat tears as Chuck felt an ominous hand on his shoulder and gulped nervously. Chuck could get his own way with everyone, except his father. The couple that Chuck had observed earlier appeared at Blair's side. The man stooped down to Blair and she buried her dark head into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Blair's mother looked from her daughter to Chuck with equal disdain.

"Charles, can't you be trusted for one brunch? I'm sorry Eleanor; my son refuses to learn the social graces that Blair has picked up so well." Chuck's father's voice was stern and Chuck looked up at him with regret. The young boy tried constantly to impress his father and failed on every occasion.

"Forget it, Bart. Let's just enjoy this wonderful brunch. Blair is far from perfect. Harold, take her over to the Archibald's table. Nate will cheer her up. They do get on so well." And after a brief air-kiss between the parents, the Waldorfs were gone. Bart looked down at his son and sighed, before turning on his heel towards a crowd of glamorous women. Chuck resumed his observation of the room, admiring the fabricated warmth between the Waldorf and the Archibald family as they greeted one another. A knot in his stomach tightened as he watched Blair untangle herself from her father to address a small boy with a mop of golden hair. The two children shot nervous glances at each other before the boy muttered something to Blair which made her giggle. Chuck quickly looked away.

No one noticed as Chuck slunk under the table cloth to his private oasis. As the little boy crouched under the table, trying to block out reality, he rewound the event which had just taken place. If things had been different, Blair might've been hidden away with him, giggling with Chuck instead of the Archibald boy. But Chuck had failed again.


	2. Entranced

Chapter two: Entranced

Twelve years later, Chuck found himself entranced by Blair yet again. Poised as always, she rose from the depths of Chuck's limo, delicately ignoring his proffered hand. It was an established fact that Blair Waldorf was beautiful, but the combination of New York's twinkling darkness and her newfound air of independence, seemed to render her impossibly perfect. Now firmly on her feet, Blair slammed the limo door with a ferocity that shook Chuck from his reverie.

"Where's Nate?" The absence of Chuck's best friend was surprising; Blair and Nate had been inseparable since the annual brunch all those years ago.

"I think we just broke up." Blair's firm announcement shocked Chuck. This in itself was a rare occurrence. The small circle of privileged Upper East Side teenagers, within which Blair and Chuck operated, was a predictable one for them both.

"Wha-" Chuck began to blurt incoherently before Blair impatiently interrupted.

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to escape." She began to saunter towards the club entrance. Chuck followed, momentarily stunned into blind obedience. "That's what this place is for, right?"

Blair was right. Victrola was Chuck's adolescent equivalent to hiding under the table as a forgotten five-year old. Chuck hastened his strides to catch up with his brunette companion, wrapping his arm around her waist to guide her into his new refuge. He finally had the chance to share his world with her, and only her. Chuck clicked his fingers to his favorite barmaid (the Bass method of ordering drinks) and continued to steer Blair towards his reserved seat at the front of the club. She glanced at him, her brown eyes alight with a fierce desire for freedom, and wriggled from his grasp. They took their seats as the bottle of champagne arrived and was duly distributed. The mood was awkwardly comfortable; Blair hovered on the edge of her seat, clutching her glass, rocking slightly and staring straight ahead at the stage before them.

Chuck watched Blair, and an unusual feeling of concern struck within him. Blair Waldorf _never_ rocked. "I know you don't want to talk about what happened, but..." He spoke softly, prepared for Blair's sharp retort.

To his surprise, Blair simply nodded without looking at him, and answered the unfinished question. "Relief. I feel relief." She was not herself tonight, Chuck reflected silently, under normal circumstances Blair would be leaving countless desperate messages on Nate's phone and seeking advice from Chuck as her boyfriend's designated "best friend". "You know, I got moves." Blair feverishly announced, her eyes never flickering from the grinding burlesque dancers.

"Really?" Chuck languidly pulled himself upright, energized by a chance for both amusement and exploitation. "Then why don't you get up there." Chuck was not asking a question but posing a dare, his voice loaded with husky manipulation. With her enchanting giggle, Blair rebuffed the proposal.

"I'm just saying I have moves," She assumed she had shrugged off his challenge, in her effortlessly demeaning manner. But Chuck Bass was never one to back down in a battle of wills.

Chuck leaned forward to whisper seductively into her ear. "Come on, you're ten times hotter than any of those girls." Blair swung away from him as he drew closer and shot him a withering glance.

"I know what you're doing, Bass." The two socialites were too similar not to recognize the other's strategies and Chuck's reputation prevented Blair from acknowledging the sincerity of his words. However, Blair's dark eyes dropped in thought as she dwelled on Chuck's words. "You really don't think I'll go up there." She realized, now with a similar challenging tone in her own speech.

Chuck smirked with callous conviction. "I know you won't do it." Blair paused, uncharacteristically open-mouthed, forming an internal decision. Before Chuck realized what was happening, she had placed down her glass and swiveled in her seat to face him, a steely determination visible on her gorgeous features.

"Guard my drink." Blair instructed, pushing herself to her feet, as Chuck relaxed back in his seat wearing a conceited grin. She ascended to the stage with that trademark Waldorf elegance; her prim heels clicking eagerly up the small stairway. Blair immediately seized control of the stage, as the burlesque dancers looked on in hushed awe, oozing sophistication as every part of her body formed a visual exhibition. She slid off her headband, removing with it any inhibitions, and threw it to a cheering punter.

Chuck was now completely addicted to drinking her in. He could not tear his eyes away, as Blair turned and slowly unzipped her genteel shift. It fell to the floor. The crowd went wild and Chuck felt his world slip into a slow-motion fantasy as Blair began to writhe tantalizingly onstage, her back to the audience. Chuck rose and slowly strode towards the stage, his eyes never straying from Blair's petite frame, as she ran her hand through her hair before turning her head towards the excited throng. Blair's eyes met Chuck's, and for a moment time stood still.

Meanwhile, the barmaid had crept behind Chuck, equally entranced by the new dancer. "Who's that girl?" She queried. Chuck did not turn his head to answer as Blair traced her finger up her thigh enticingly.

"I have no idea." Once again, Chuck Bass had considerably underestimated Blair Waldorf.


	3. Lips on Fire

Chapter three: Lips on Fire

Chuck viciously pushed through the mob to reach her. "Blair," he whispered into her ear "do you think it's time I took you home?"

She was drunk; Chuck had been watching her swap slurred flirtations with horny club-goers for the past hour and he had had enough. But when Blair turned her big, doe eyes onto Chuck, all his annoyance vanished. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, just as she had done to her father all those years ago. This gesture, however, was now so aberrant to Blair's usual icy demeanour that Chuck's desire to remove her from Victrola intensified.

Without waiting for an answer, Chuck simply swept Blair into his arms and carried her to the waiting limo. "Where to, sir?" Chuck paused to consider his driver's question, Blair's thin arms still draped around his neck, he couldn't take her home like this: Eleanor would not be impressed. "Just drive us around anywhere you like. Well, anywhere that's not the Upper East Side. I need to sober her up."

It took two hours for Chuck to rediscover the old Blair Waldorf as she slowly recovered from inebriation. It occurred to Chuck that this was the opposite of his usual routine, which involved getting girls drunk, not nursing them sober. Nonetheless, Chuck found the struggle was worth it.

"Thanks for the lift home." Blair looked strikingly beautiful as she turned to face Chuck. He felt a rush of desire swell within him and he turned his face towards hers.

"You were...amazing up there." Chuck's voice had lost its snide, sarcastic quality; Blair Waldorf had managed to completely demolish his facade, Chuck noted with alarm. This anxiety melted as Blair's eyes flickered over his face with warmth and longing. She shuffled towards him on the limo's leather seat. Their eyes met as their faces drew closer. As their noses brushed, it seemed neither Blair nor Chuck dared to breathe.

Then it happened, their lips clashed together in a mess of fiery passion and heated desire. Blair's body twisted towards him and their fingers became entwined. Chuck pulled away. He had to be sure she wanted this.

"You sure?" He heard himself asking, for the first time in his life, praying that she'd say yes and mean it. Chuck Bass _never_ asked permission.

Blair opened her eyes. She took in Chuck's face. So earnest and sincere. Blair closed her eyes and knew there was no need for a reply. There was no need to even make a decision. Blair's body did that for her, pulling her to him. Their lips tangled once more and Blair savoured the taste of his kiss. Scotch, burnt matches and summer rain.

As she leant into him, enslaved by her lust, he cradled her; one hand on the small of her back, the other on her leg. She flung him around the limo; passion filling her tiny frame with disproportionate strength. He clung to her, his lips on fire. Slowly, hesitantly, he slid down the straps of her slip. She responded by ripping open his shirt and wriggling out of the slip before flinging herself onto him again. He caught her in his arms, slipping off the remnants of his shirt along with his jacket and tie, whilst their lips never separated.

They struggled for power, as they always had done, Chuck lowered Blair down onto the limo seat. Her legs were pointed upwards and Chuck reluctantly broke from her tender kiss to carefully remove her heels and roll down her suspenders. Blair giggled as Chuck ran his hands up her thighs until he reached her knotted French knickers. Her laughter deepened when Chuck's fingers hesitated over them. She sat upright and grabbed his hair, joining her lips to his. When they broke apart, both breathless and smiling, Blair looked up at Chuck. Never confiscating her gaze from Chuck's chocolate brown eyes, Blair fingered the side bow; its knot represented the last obstacle between them. "Rip them off!" She purred in his ear. Chuck grinned and immediately obeyed. The scrap of lavish fabric fell, discarded, to the limo floor.


	4. That Night

A/N: I'm sorry for the late update and for the short chapter. Oh, and I must also apologize for the lack of dialogue and any errors. I've really enjoyed all the reviews and I would love to get some more...

Anyway, enjoy this chapter. I'm hoping to update later tonight or tomorrow. The next chapter will hopefully involve dialogue to make up for this one and veer away from the show.

Finally, I'll just take this chance to thank everyone else who puts fan fiction on here. It's all so amazing.

Okay, enough rambling, read and review.

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Chapter Four- **That night**

That night had changed everything. The first night had been quickly followed by the second. The night of Blair's 17th birthday party. On the morning of her birthday itself, _the second morning after_, Chuck woke to find Blair gone and a note in her place. A rigged fragment of paper, with a few scant lines peppered across it, to replace her warm, fragile body. Chuck had drunken in her words:

_**Bass,**_

_**Would you consider avoiding me over breakfast? Your suite. Ten AM.**_

_**B**_

There had been no consideration. Desire forced rationality from his mind. And hers. For the next week, the pair had spent every free moment tormenting each other with lingering encounters. Social events were endured by darting glances and stolen kisses in hidden corners. The risk only heightened their lust. Chuck flirted with the eager drones, continuing to be _Chuck Bass. _Blair looked away and continued to be _Blair Waldorf_. In the eyes of all others, there had been no change, excepting the demise of the golden couple and Nate's notable absence. In his limo on the way home, the masks fell away and they were just Chuck and Blair, melded together and _happy_. Smiles, unremittingly captured by his lips on hers, replaced smirks.

Then it had ended. Not abruptly. Not caused by one solitary occurrence. Although, as Chuck reminisced morosely, the Debutante Ball was the beginning of the end. When he had seen _his _Blair ravaging the lips of his best friend, there had been a brief moment of intense pain within him. As Nate and Blair had closed the door behind them, Chuck's pain had been shut off also. Blair had been the one to unlock Chuck's feelings. Now she was gone, so were they. Chuck's jaw tightened, his demeanor hardened by the familiar feeling of numbness, as he stood at the top of the stairway alone. Without his scarf, his best friend, his smirk or _his_ girl.

So he had fled from the cold, claustrophobic city. From the memories. From _her_. He replaced the vanilla skies of New York with the cerulean paradise of Monaco. He tried to replace her; ravishing from one beautiful French body after another. Finally, he attempted to forget _that night_, promising himself that if that memory could be discarded, all others involving her would also fade from his mind.

But the skies seemed just as gray through Chuck's chocolate eyes. Blond hair became brown in his mind. And no matter how he tried, that night haunted him in his dreams.


	5. The Riddle

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews & alerts! They seriously make it all worthwhile.

The next two chapters may have slight spoilers for 1x12 or 1x13, based on my interpretation of various promos & previews.

I apologize for the mysterious nature of this chapter & the small amount of dialogue. The next chapter (which will hopefully be up in a couple of days, before Jan 2) should explain the vague implications of this one.

So, thanks again and don't forget to review. 

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Chapter Five- The Riddle

**Riddle**** (n.) **- a statement or question having a double or veiled meaning, put forth as a puzzle to be solved.

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He was packing again. Shoving silken shirts and underwear into a leather holdall. This was becoming a habit. Serena's visit had confirmed what he had been trying to deny for what seemed like a lifetime: Blair and Nate were, _are_, meant to be together. He was simply an obstacle for the golden couple to overcome. An anecdote for dinner parties in years to come. Chuck rubbed his throat, fingering the sore rivulets left by Nate hours earlier, and considered possible destinations for his next escape attempt.

Chuck froze, his thoughts interrupted by a hesitant knock on the door of his suite. There was another tentative knock. Chuck padded towards the door, both his bare feet and demeanor uncharacteristically cautious, as his breathing became shallow and desperate. The third knock was louder, more determined, than the previous two. Chuck doubted either of the two people he cared about most would be standing on the other side of the door. He had alienated all of his former friends through fruitless, vengeful schemes and sheer egocentricity. His last encounter with Nathaniel had ended in harsh words and bruises. And _Blair_, she belonged to Nate. Chuck had learnt, to his detriment, the lengths she would go to remain his best friend's possession.

Chuck's bitter analysis of his situation led him to a realization; the realization that he had nothing left to lose. He seized the gilded handle and hauled the door open, without consulting the peephole.

"I needed to see you," Her crimson lips gasped out the words between sobs. Her hair, normally falling around her face in perfect ringlets, had been thrust into a high ponytail. Her pale face bore no makeup and her bitten, ravaged nails clutched black Wayfarers. Chuck surveyed this unusual incarnation, his brow furrowed in confusion, and stepped towards the shell of a girl which had once been Blair Waldorf.

She fell into his chest. Instinctively, he supported her weight and uncertainly wrapped his arms around her. Her fragile body heaved with the effort of choking out tears and Chuck's shuddered along with it; her pain becoming his own.

He didn't know how long they stood there, enfolded around each other in the dim corridor. Gradually, she began to regain her composure. Her supply of tears was exhausted and Chuck guided her over the threshold into his living quarters. Blair's doe eyes studied the room, coming to a rest on the leather holdall. She stumbled onto the sofa and collapsed; her head falling into her delicate hands. Chuck turned away from her and poured two measures of scotch into two small tumblers. As he grasped the familiar bottle, Chuck could not help but notice that his hand was shaking.

"You're leaving." Blair says, lifting her head and clutching her drink, as Chuck distributed the liquor to the delicate brunette and slid onto the sofa beside her. It was a statement, not a question. Chuck's eyes narrowed at the regretful note in her voice. He can't bear to meet her unrelenting gaze.

"I-" He began before trailing off, unable to find the words. Downing the scotch, Chuck met her icy stare. Her brown eyes swam with contradictory emotions and insecurities. She broke their connection first, blinking downwards. When her dark eyes flickered up to his once more, they flashed with resentment, surrounded by a shadow of wet eyelashes. Her back stiffened and she too poured the scotch down her throat in one swift movement.

"You were going to leave, Bass. Without even finding out about... the problem." She spat the final phrase with venom as she stalked around the room angrily. Chuck sighed in irritation; the girl was speaking in riddles. In actuality, Chuck reflected, Blair herself was a riddle. A fantastic mess of beauty, fear and mystery. A beautiful riddle. But a riddle, nonetheless.

Chuck had never been one to waste time pondering conundrums. As Blair stopped her frantic pacing, frowning at the view of bustling New York streets from his window, Chuck rose to his feet and strode to the doorway. Blair swiftly spun from the view at the sound of his weighty footsteps, biting her lower lip in tense apprehension. After a moment of final appraisal, he ignored the sharp intake of breath from across the room and twisted the door handle with exasperated ferocity.


	6. Mirror Kissers

A/N: Apologies for the late update. I've been working on another CB story that I just had to get out of my system. Hopefully, this chapter will make up for it though & the new story should be up by tomorrow.

I'm unsure of whether to end the story here or carry on. Review with your thoughts & any ideas and I'll be eternally grateful. Whilst I'm on the topic, your reviews are basically the reason I keep writing so thanks again!

Just a warning: this chapter has some spoilers for 1x13 so don't read if you're not in the mood to be spoiled.

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"Either tell me what you want, Waldorf, or get out." Chuck stood in the open doorway. Voice low with tired exasperation. Eyes meeting her own in an unspoken challenge. 

Blair held his gaze; her beautiful features rigid in thought. Eventually, she raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak. "You don't care? I don't know why I'm surprised. I mean, you have spent the last week blackmailing me and making my life a living hell." She exhaled in disbelief and shook her head, causing her espresso curls to bounce disruptively from within their updo.

He strode towards her with quick, heavy steps. "Exactly what am I not supposed to be caring about here? Losing my best friend? Fucking the frigid princess of the Upper East Side? What?" As he spoke his voice rose in volume and Blair visibly cowered as he leaned towards her. She quickly recovered, however, now reluctant to show any signs of weakness.

When she spoke, her voice was calm and emotionless. Devoid of any emotion. "Drop the act, Bass. I know all about Serena's visit."

"_Please_. You think Serena told me something? It was more like an interrogation."

Blair's lips froze, as they flew open in quick retort. A sharp crease formed on her forehead as she considered his words. Chuck watched her, before turning away to pour them both another drink. Glass knocked on glass awkwardly. The cold sound of ice clinking echoed through the room.

She seized the glass from his outstretched hand, downed the scotch with a grimace, and began to laugh. Deep, hysterical giggles. "Thank God." She sighed happily, placing her empty glass on a nearby table and heading for the open door.

Chuck grabbed her wrist as she passed, whirling her around towards him. He did not loosen his grip on her, however, despite the fact he could feel her warm breath tickling his cheek. "Waldorf. Tell me what the _fuck_ is going on."

All laughter died on her scarlet lips. "It doesn't matter," Blair snapped fiercely, "If you don't know, there's no reason to-"

"No reason? I care about you, Waldorf. How's that for a reason?" She looked down, unsure of how to respond to this outburst. "You turn upon my doorstep, crying, after days of ignoring me and pining for Nathaniel-"

"I thought I was pregnant, alright? You satisfied?" She raised her eyebrows to match her increase in volume. At her words, Chuck's grip became weak on her wrist. "Serena bought those tests for me."

His dark eyes narrowed. "Thought implies past tense; I'm assuming you've taken the test and know the results by now." His fingers closed once again around her arm. His short nails digging into her scrawny flesh. "I have a right to know."

She rolled her eyes and wrenched herself from his desperate grasp. "I owe you nothing, Bass. Blair Waldorf is indebted to no one." In one swift movement she reached upwards and freed her glossy mane. She turned away from him to address her wayward appearance in a nearby mirror.

Chuck crept behind her, seizing the opportunity to whisper menacingly into her ear. "Are you getting some sort of sick pleasure from hiding things from people? I knew you were manipulative but this is a new extreme."

She considered the image in front of her; his body snaked around her own. Mirrors never lied, of that she was certain. And this particular mirror seemed to confirm what she'd been trying to deny ever since that fateful night. _They were two pieces of the same puzzle. __Two pieces of a broken heart._

Hastily, she shook her head as if to rid herself of the image and twisted towards him. "I have no idea what you are talking about and I'm certainly not going to waste my time playing your mind games. Kindly get out of my way and I'll put you out of your misery."

But Chuck didn't move. Instead, he replied by simply whispering in her ear once more. "You didn't tell Serena about Nate." Slowly, he leaned away from her body to catch her gaze. His chocolate eyes caressing hers. "Admit it, Waldorf. You regretted it."

"I will not." Chuck felt a small, familiar fist against his chest. Weakly, Blair tried to push him away, her uncertain eyes betraying her as she did so.

He drew her into him. His hand cradling the small of her back. His warm forehead against hers. He hovered over her lips before engulfing them with his own. They tumbled onto the soft mattress, all questions forgotten.

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It wasn't until the morning that he saw it. Glimmering on her bony finger in the white morning sunshine. The Vanderbilt ring. 

His burning stare seemed to stir her awake. "I'm sorry." Blair murmured softly. "I-"

"No need to explain." He muttered bitterly in reply, cutting her off. "I should've known. Blair Waldorf never fails tests, right? I'm sure Nathaniel will make a wonderful father."

He rolled out of bed and quickly pulled on his discarded clothes from the night before, ignoring the somersaults within his stomach. "Goodbye, Blair."


	7. Why?

**A/N: I have had severe writer's block with this story so I had nothing to update with. On a positive note, I seem to have recovered now and this chapter is the longest so far. I apologize for the late update, though, and any mistakes because I couldn't be bothered to proof-read.**

**This story has become half-canon and half-AU so I thought I'd just explain how 1x13 fits into the story (if you haven't seen the episode, then don't read this due to spoilers, just skip past the bullet points):**

**- Serena buys a pregnancy test for Blair, this gets onto Gossip Girl.**

**- Serena goes to see Chuck as in the episode, but she just asks him for his help with Blair. He refuses and explains how she ruined any feelings he might have had for her by sleeping with Nate. Chuck does not know that the pregnancy test is for Blair.**

**- Serena & Blair fall out.**

**- Chuck follows Blair into school, asking if she's alright (obviously in a Chuck-Bass-sarcastically-indifferent way). Blair calls him a mistake, etc. Chuck sends text to GG about how Blair slept with two guys in one week but obviously does not mention the pregnancy, because he does not know.**

**- Jenny tells Nate about Chuck (grrr... I really hate her, in her ugly pink tights), Nate & Chuck limo fight follows and then Blair's excursion to the Archibald residence.**

**- I won't ruin the suspense, but a two major events happen before Blair takes a trip to the Palace. Both of which are explained in this chapter.**

**- Blair goes to see Chuck, but instead of drowning his sorrows in the bar, he is packing in his suite. This is where my Chapter Five begins, allowing us to neatly sidestep the ugly "Arabian horses" fiasco.**

**Anyway, hope that cleared a few things up. If you have any more questions, feel free to leave them in the reviews and I will reply to them. In fact, as always, reviews in general would be fabulous. Some of the credit for this chapter goes to reviewers such as pinkfurball, Blood Red Kiss of Death and everyone else as well. It wouldn't have been written without the reviews.**

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She lay in the bed, replaying the moments of the night before over and over again in her head. The sheets were warm and soft against her skin, but all she felt was cold and empty. With the room now deserted, she let her head fall into her hands. How could she let this happen again? How had she let _Chuck Bass_ happen again? 

And Nate. The _love of her life_. He'd taken her back after everything she'd done. And now she'd done it again. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as the events of the day before slowly flooded back to her.

**

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**

_She stood before her open closet, pondering which shoes were most fitting for a semester in France, when she heard footsteps. Bracing herself for another battle with Chuck, Serena or her mother__, she spun__determinedly __from the closet. She unbuttoned her maroon blazer and folded it over the arm of a chair, her fingers working more and more quickly as the footsteps grew louder._

_"Come in." She heard herself say, as the footsteps halted and were replaced by a gentle knocking on her bedroom door. The door swung open and she was confronted with a pair of hauntingly blue eyes and the last person she expected to see._

_"Your mom let me up," His explanation was spoken more to the floor than to her. Cautiously__, he lifted his gaze and surveyed the room. "You're leaving?"_

_"I have nothing to stay for," The truth rushed out before she had a chance to think. Finally, he looked at her and she shuffled uncomfortably under his watch, swinging one hand to hug her opposite elbow self-consciously. Her foot rose uncertainly, preparing to launch herself backwards, as Nate took a step towards her_

_"Blair..." She shivered at the syllable. Her name, spoken in his pleading tone, seemed to __chill the air. "I never should have said those things__."_

_Their bodies were mere centimeters apart as he took another step closer. Instinctively, she felt her body begin to weaken at his proximity. She began to weaken. She twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of his face. His clenched jaw was raised as he looked around the room once more, azure eyes resting on inanimate objects: her bags, her bed, anywhere but on her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He was supposed to arrive with jewelery and flowers, sweeping her off her feet with apologies and kisses. _

_She brushed past him, turning to her luggage, escaping his ghost of an embrace. A bitter smile crept across her tear-stained features. "Is that what you came here to say, Nate? I have a lot of packing to do."_

_"Blair, I came to do something else entirely," Nate's voice, normally full of indecision and doubt, now sounded unusually resolute.__ With a weary sigh, she abandoned the piles of folded clothing and faced him dejectedly. _

_Bottom lip hanging independent of its matching cohort, she stared in shock at the scene before her. __He was no longer __towering over her, his 6ft frame dwarfing her own 5 ft 3 __stature. It was now his head tilted heavenwards to meet her gaze. Their positions were now completely reversed, she concluded. It was now _him _who was begging her._

_"Blair Cornelia Waldorf," Nate began, opening the small black box in his outstretched hand. "Will you marry me?"_

_Impulsively, h__er thin fingers __reached towards the captivating object, shining against the soft black velvet. A slideshow, made up of years of moments, began to stutter into action against the pink screen of Blair's eyelids, as she lingered in a slow blink. __Bright light and reality bore ferociously into her chocolate__orbs __as the show __d__rew to a close._

_"Nate..." For once in her life, Blair Waldorf was lost for words. Nate's fringe-covered forehead creased into a frown, the awkwardness of the scenario clear to them both. Blair__ was also frowning now; a frown which only deepened when she realized she wasn't _supposed _to be frowning. This situation was _supposed_ to be the most magical of her life. She was _supposed_ to be smiling, not frowning. It wasn't _supposed _to be like this._

_"The last time I saw you, you said you wanted nothing more to do with me, now you want to marry me?" She flinched inwardly as she remembered __his harsh words the day before, the cold look in his eye. "I told you I might be carrying your baby and you tossed me aside."_

_Hastily, he shut the box and shoved it into the confines of his jacket pocket, scrambling from his knee to cradle her bony chin in his large hands. "Blair, I was angry. I just needed some time. It didn't take me long to realize that I'm in love with you, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. __Like we planned__ baby or no baby.__Baby,__ and we show the world that we can make perfect parents, if that's what you want. No __baby,__ and we wait until we're ready to get married. I know we're only young, Blair, but I'm old enough to know that I love you. And i__f you're pregnant, we both know it's mine. Chuck would've left a trail of mini-Basses throughout Manhattan if he didn't know how to handle his business."_

_She looked at the boy standing before her: Nathaniel Archibald. He was her prince in shining armour. She was going to marry him one day. There was no reason not to make that destiny __a little__ more certain._

_"Nate," Her voice was soft but commanding once more. "You can get back down on one knee now." She chose to ignore the absurdity of her gentle demand as Nate assumed his position on her imported Parisian carpet._

_"Blair Waldorf," He began his question, _the question, _again. "Will you marry me?"_

_This time, she smiled__ it was the first genuine one that had graced her scarlet lips in the past 24 hours.__ "Yes."_

_It was only as the cool metal ring was slid onto her finger, and __her _fiancée _clasped her tiny body to his muscular chest, that the smile began to fade. __Just a little._

_And by the time he had left the room, after snatching several ecstatic kisses__, the smile had__ disappeared altogether.__ Not even a ghost of it remained._

_Grimly, Blair wrenched open the bottom drawer of her desk, and bent to select the rectangular box. She slammed the drawer shut and turned to the bathroom. It was time to find out the truth._

_Ten minutes later she emerged, promises to Nate and Serena fulfilled, fresh tears cascading down her cheeks. __She shoved her hair into a swift__updo, pulled on a new set of clothes and grabbed her Wayfarer sunglasses._

_And that's how Blair Waldorf ended up at Chuck Bass's doorway, frail hand adorned with the Vanderbilt diamond._

**

* * *

**

Blair shuffled forward under the luxurious covers, placing her hands behind her back and heaving her naked body upright. Blair Waldorf did not wallow, she decided, Blair Waldorf took action. She snatched up her clothes from the night before, threw them on with the trusty black Wayfarers and waltzed out of the suite.

**

* * *

**

He's in Victrola, drowning his sorrows in bottomless glasses of scotch, trying to feel _something_ as he stares at the grinding bodies before him. But he can't escape the memories. Can't shake it from his mind that the last time he lounged on this seat, he was with _her_ on _that night_. He hates himself for even being aware of that fact. He hates _her_. He hates what she does to him. But most of all, he hates his own lack of control. Last night, he had been determined to resist her. To get some answers out of her and scribble a thick line under the whole affair. But in the morning he'd woken up with her warm, naked body entwined with his own, the cruel reality of that ring on her thin finger and even more questions.

And the worst part was, he didn't regret it.

He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and hastily whipped it out, the illuminated screen displaying one simple word: _Blair_. He held the small object in his palm as it continued to ring. He hadn't spoken to her since he'd fled from his suite earlier that day. He'd hoped she'd call or send him desperate text messages, but until this moment, there had been nothing. Now that her name was finally flashing on the small screen, he was unsure of what to do next. Before he could stop himself, he'd flipped open the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Where are you?" Her voice, usually full of authority, sounded weak and broken.

"What does it matter, Waldorf?" Returning her question with one of his own, he motioned to the waitress to refill his empty glass.

"I...need to talk to you." He couldn't imagine what she would need to say to him. Their parting had been abrupt but explanatory. Despite his confusion at her sudden need for conversation, his determination to avoid her wavered as a wave of unfamiliar concern washed over him. She sounded so hesitant. Blair Waldorf was not hesitant.

"Please."

Her final word made his decision for him. Blair Waldorf _never _grovelled. "Your place. Half an hour." He growled into the phone, slamming it shut without waiting for a reply.

* * *

She lay in a ball. Curled up on the floor of her living room, choking out a fresh flood of tears, thin arms tightly wrapped around her waist. How had everything ended up like this? 

"Blair?" She hadn't heard him enter and he doubted if she'd even heard him mutter her name. He watched her, trying to put a name to the emotions he felt for the petite brunette: love? Hate? He wasn't sure.

As he stood over her, he tried to force the corners of his thin lips into a smirk. For the first time in his life, the gesture felt _unnatural. _Slowly, he dropped both the smirk and his facade, crouching to place a hand on her shuddering shoulder.

"You." She shrugged from his grasp, dabbing at her eyes with clenched fists. Her heels fought to find steady footing before she rose to her full height, glaring at him throughout.

"I'm not pregnant!" Her voice had risen to a hysterical crescendo now, a pseudo-smile painted onto her beautiful features. She half-fell onto the chaise-longue behind her, quickly regaining her elegance as she crossed her legs in one swift movement. "And I broke off my engagement with Nate." She held up her hand for him to examine, shaking her head ruefully. He squinted dutifully at the ringless fingers. "You've got your information, Bass. You can go."

A humorless chuckle escaped from his lips. "Oh no, Waldorf. You don't get to call me to your penthouse and then dismiss me, I'm not your little bitch like dear Nathaniel. I want to know _why_. Why you let _us_ happen last night, why you broke it off, why you accepted in the first place."

"Why?" The dark rainbows of her eyebrows had shot towards her headband at his words. It was the second time in one day that Blair Waldorf had been left speechless.

With no words left to explain herself away, with no movie script to read from, she rose to her feet once more. With her hot breath on his cheek, he couldn't _think_ anymore. Couldn't _reason_ or _rationalize_. But a moment later, with her wet lips pressed against his own, he realized that _this feeling_ was all the explanation he needed.

* * *


End file.
